Free Molding Clay by Ciana Stone Page A

core. She pushed against
    each thrust, driving him deeper into her. Her legs tightened around him as her body
    went into climax. Wetness poured between them, her pussy clenching around him, her
    belly contracting. Her head arched back, eyes closed in abandon. Clay slowed his
    movements, enjoying the feel of her orgasm.
    Rusty went limp and sank into the feeling of Clay kissing and sucking her neck. He
    pulled out of her as his mouth traveled to her breasts. He teased her nipples as his hand
    continued the journey down her body and slipped under her ass. With expert motion,
    he rolled her on top of him. He ran his fingers down between her cheeks, over her anus
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    and up to swollen lips. He fingered her clit gently as he sucked her breasts. Just as
    another orgasm began to ripple through her body he shifted her and drove himself into
    her.
    Rusty cried out and at that moment the power of the female asserted itself. She
    whispered words foreign to his ears that made his skin burn and his mind explode with
    light and sensation. She took him, setting the pace and rhythm, riding him like a
    runaway stallion. Sweat poured from both of their bodies. His hands pulled at her hips
    as his eyes raked over her body, stopping to stare into her eyes. With eyes locked and
    bodies connected, they traveled together to a shared climax that left them both spent
    and exhausted.
    Rusty lay down on him, the side of her face against his broad chest, listening to the
    rapid beat of his heart. She felt his arms circle her protectively. Relaxing into his
    embrace, warm against his skin, she fell asleep.
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    Chapter Eight

    The delicious sensation of fingers dancing across the skin of her back woke Rusty.
    She opened her eyes and remained still, enjoying the feel of Clay’s warm, solid body
    beneath her, a cool breeze wafting across her and his hands moving slowly down her
    back to cup her rear.
    She raised her head and looked into his eyes. “Anyone ever told you that you’re
    about the most beautiful thing that ever walked this world?” he asked in a low, slow
    drawl that sent a shiver racing through her.
    “Not that I recall, Mr. Russell.”
    “Mr. Russell?” he asked with an arch of his brow. “Honey, we’re way past that.”
    “Hmmm, maybe,” she teased.
    “Maybe hell,” he chuckled and rolled them over so that he had her pinned to the
    ground. “No more Mr. Russell. It’s Clay. Come on now, it’s a short word. Only one
    syllable.”
    “Nope,” she said with a shake of her head and pushed him away so she could sit.
    She stretched her arms over her head and arched her back, sighing as the muscles
    loosened. Clay watched with glittering eyes, propped on his side on the ground.
    “Aw now, Fancy, what’s a man to think if you won’t even say his name after a night
    of lovin’?”
    Rusty laughed. “Well to start, it was morning. And to say a night of lovin’ implies
    that it was something that lasted for hours on end and as I recall…”
    Clay growled and silenced her when he sat and grabbed her hair to pull her face to
    his for a kiss that sent fire singing in her veins. His tongue parted her lips and
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    plundered her mouth, staking his claim not only with the kiss. With his left hand fisted
    in her hair, he held her captive, running his right hand slowly up her bare inner thigh.
    Rusty returned the kiss with equal passion. Having sampled the delights of making
    love with Clay, she was anticipating what was to come. She thought perhaps to just let
    him have his way when his questing fingers stroked her clit, bringing it immediately to
    life. But then she changed her mind. Maybe it was time to let Clay feel some of her fire.
    “Wait.” She pulled back from his kiss and stilled his hand. “I want you to come
    with me.”
    “That’s where I was headed, darlin’,” he replied as she stood.
    “No, come with me somewhere.”
    For a moment Clay didn’t move. “Please,” Rusty